


Five times Max brews an Americano

by gaps42



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Definitely suggestive language in the sequel chapter!!!, F/F, Pointless romcom fluff, Suggestive language maybe???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaps42/pseuds/gaps42
Summary: And one time she doesn't.elmax's own f/f coffee shop AU. Sequel: two and a half years later, it's Jane's turn to ask a question.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuzuyuri](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yuzuyuri).



Although she keeps the benign customer-service smile frozen on her face, Max may take a moment longer than she needs to before she turns away from the machine she's cleaning to face the counter when a shadow falls across the cash register. It's the end of the night, the second announcement proclaiming the impending closing of the store echoing around them, and Max is so close to having the little coffee kiosk cleaned and prepped for the morning that she isn't looking to start the evening closing duties over again for just one drink. Customers who come right at the last second the shop is open, assuming making their complicated coffee drink at 8:59 is as easy as it would be during the busiest part of the day, are her least favorite part of the job at the best of times, and tonight she's tired, pulled into an extra closing shift at a location that's not even her own on a night where she had started the day with an early class. Wondering irritably what earlier, less exhausted Max had been thinking when she'd agreed to this shift for a manager she didn't even know, she whirls on her heel to face the customer with raised eyebrows she hopes look more welcoming than impatient.

The customer is watching her with raised eyebrows of her own, the rest of her sculpted, beautiful face unreadable as she hovers by the register a bit awkwardly. Big, doe eyes flecked with gold take Max in warily, long black eyelashes casting faint shadows on sharp cheekbones from the harsh florescent lights above them. Her hair is buzzed, and it seems to draw attention to her features, every hard edge and soft curve of her face thrown into sharp relief under the bright rafter lights, or maybe Max's senses are too overloaded by her accentuated, raw beauty and she can only take in the other girl in bits and pieces. Whatever it was, the only thought which occurs to Max as she drinks in the gentle curve of the other girl's open lips is that she finally understands what people mean when they describe someone as  _stunning_.

"Hi," Max breathes, stepping forward without a thought.

The girl shift uncomfortably, and Max comes back to herself all at once as she realizes how creepy she's being. Blushing furiously, she looks anywhere but at the other girl and hastily grasps the towel flung over her shoulder to wipe down a spout on the espresso machine like that's what she'd meant to do all along, giving herself a moment to recover.  _No harassing the customers, Mayfield._  "Um, what can I get started for you?" she says in her best customer-service voice, keeping her gaze low as she reluctantly pads the rest of the way over to the cash register. Her eyes land on a reflective vest over a plaid work shirt, and she swallows the sudden excess saliva in her mouth; the girl must be part of the night crew, starting their shift as the store closes. That would explain why she would be ordering a coffee right at closing time, although the small part of Max's brain which is still functioning thinks, snidely, that this may not be the reason Max is suddenly feeling so generous with her time.  
"Small coffee, please," the customer says. Her voice is husky and soft, and it takes Max a dizzy moment to process what she says.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Max raises her eyes apologetically, sweaty fingers sliding along the bottom-side of the counter as she meets the other girl's confused gaze. "We actually stop making pour-over coffee half an hour before closing, I don't have any made right now."

The girl's eyebrows furrow, beautiful eyes wide with surprise. "Oh."

"But -" Max glances around, ponytail flying wildly behind her - "I could make you an Americano? It's a shot of espresso in hot water, it's pretty close to pour-over with more caffeine."

The girl looks confused, but nods silently. Max punches in her order with slippery hands, and she's proud of how little she fumbles the cup as she plucks it from her freshly-restocked display.

"Can I get a name for the cup?" she asks with a smile. The girl is the only one in line, so she doesn't exactly need an identifier, but she can't resist the excuse to find out more about the mystery girl.

"Jane," the customer says quietly, watching her with those inscrutable eyes as she shuffles down the counter towards the pick-up station.

"Jane," Max sighs, smiling as she writes the name across the side of the cup. She catches herself and hurriedly shoves the cup beneath the nozzle of the espresso maker, grateful for the hulking machine to hide her blush. "I'm Max," she offers, only daring to watch Jane out of the corner of her eye as she searches for the espresso beans beneath the counter.

She sees Jane nod in her peripheral vision, but the other girl says nothing. Max waits until after she's ground the espresso beans before she tries again. "On the overnight shift tonight?"

"Yes," Jane says quietly. Max can feel her big, distracting eyes watching her work, but when she glances over after a beat of silence Jane is looking at the counter.

"That must be a long night," Max says. Jane shrugs, silent as she looks down at her chapped hands on the counter, and Max swallows a sigh as she stuffs the filter and clamps her mouth shut. It's part of her job description to chat with the customers as she's preparing their order, and she's never been so feverishly eager to complete this particular duty, but some customers just want to grab their coffee and go and Jane is clearly one of these people. She might also be upset about being coerced into getting a drink she doesn't know if she'll like which costs almost twice what her regular order does, and Max's insides are twisting anxiously as she pulls the lever to release the steam and pulls the completed drink from the machine, suddenly nervous to look up into those stunning eyes for a new reason.

On a whim, she grabs her marker and scribbles  _Sorry I didn't have your drink, I hope you enjoy this one_  across the middle of the cup before popping a lid on top and sliding it across the counter. "Americano for Jane," she says with a smile, heart picking up speed when she dares to meet Jane's eyes and they're already staring back at her unblinkingly. "Hope it helps your shift go by faster."

Jane's lips twist into a half-smile, and Max grips the lip of the counter with sweaty fingertips as her knees threaten to give out from under her. "Thank you," she says softly, and then picks up her coffee and turns away without another word.

Max is exceptionally late closing up after watching Jane walk away dreamily for far longer than she means to and then dropping whatever she touches as she rushes around trying to refill everything at once, and she's swearing under her breath as she runs out from the curtained employee area behind the kiosk, pulling her coat over one arm as she hurries towards the door. A familiar shape catches the corner of her eye, and irritation flares in her chest when she turns and sees an empty cup sitting on the counter. She briefly considers leaving it to be the problem of the person opening tomorrow, but this isn't her shop and she doesn't want one piece of garbage to ruin their impression of her after all her hard work.

“The garbage can is _right there_ ,” she grumbles under her breath as she picks up the cup, but her own writing catches her eye and her heart stutters in her chest as she sees new, untidy writing scrawled along beneath her own.

_It's okay. Thank you for the new drink._

Max grins so wide her face aches with it, and after looking around to make sure none of the overnight workers are looking at her, she wraps her fingers around the rim carefully and bolts for the door.

\---

It turns out that they _do_ make pour-over coffee in the last half-hour before closing.

“A lot of the overnight crew get a coffee before they start their shift,” coffee kiosk manager Noah says kindly, leaning against the counter and trying not to smile as Max groans and covers her eyes with the heels of her hands. “It's not policy, but we're hardly ever left over with enough to make it a loss to brew a pot for them. It's okay, you're not from a location inside a store. Nobody told you.”

“I straight-up told a customer, though,” Max says, pressing her palms so hard into her eyes that they sting to stop herself from picturing Jane's confused expression. “ _We stop brewing pour-over coffee._ God, what a dick.”

“It's all right,” Noah laughs. “Nobody complained, and you shouldn't have been closing at a new location by yourself, anyway. You saved our asses that night when you covered, so nobody's going to get mad at you for following policy.”

Max doesn't answer. She'd taken another shift at this location with the slightly-desperate hope of seeing Jane again, but now that she knows that not only did she charge Jane extra for a coffee she hadn't wanted, but she'd done it for no reason, she's suddenly not so sure what she wants. Stunningly-sharp features lit up by a small, twisted smile swim behind her eyelids, and she amends that she knows what she _wants_ , but even the possibility rode on somehow proving to Jane that she was more than a mildly rude coffee shop employee who didn't know what she was talking about.

They're interrupted by a booming voice calling Noah's name, and Max hastily takes her hands off of her eyes and shuffles towards the sink so that yet another store employee wouldn't think that she was terrible at her job.

"Hey, Ed," Noah says with a grin, pushing off the counter to head towards the cash register. "The usual?"

"I'm actually going to buy the whole crew a round tonight," Ed says. "Gotta keep morale up with that miserable weather out there. You got enough coffee for twelve?"

"We should," Noah says, leaning back to check the coffee pots simmering behind him. "Do some of you take decaf?"

"I know Frank and Miles do, at least, give me three decaf just in case," Ed says.

"Is Jane working tonight?" Max blurts out, sweeping forward as she dries her hands nervously on her apron. An idea is forming in her head, one which will either get Jane to come back and see her or think she's even more creepy than she already does, and she needs to go through with it before she loses her nerve.

Ed frowns at her, thinking. "Jane? Yeah, she usually works on Thursdays, I think."

"Noah, I'm writing off my drink for the day," Max calls, whipping around so quickly her long ponytail almost hits her face. Noah makes a noise of affirmation, concentrating on pouring the last pot of coffee over a long row of cups across the counter, and Max ducks down to grub around for the espresso beans, heart fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest.

She snatches the cup while the last drops are still falling, hunching her shoulders a bit to hide what she's doing as she pulls out her marker and ticks off the correct boxes on the cup for an Americano and writes,  _Hi Jane, Since you liked it so much last time here's one on the house. Sorry about last week, I'm new here - Max_. Trying to look inconspicuous, she slides the cup into a tray and begins filling the rest of the spots with Noah's coffee cups as he moves down the line.

"I upgraded a drink for Jane because of an error on our part last time, the cup is marked," she tells Ed, handing him the coffee trays carefully. "Need any help carrying those, sir?" she adds, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"No, I got them, sweetheart, thanks," Ed says with a grin, hefting the trays in his arms unnecessarily, and she funnels all of the nervous energy vibrating through her body into not rolling her eyes. "You don't have a special upgrade just for me, do you?"

"Good night, Ed," Noah says from behind her, voice amused, and Ed gives her a wink before turning carefully to walk back into the store.

She must look annoyed when she turns back around, because Noah says, "You get used to the guys here. They're all manly types, but they're harmless. Hey, great customer service, by the way. You didn't have to upgrade anything, but it's great that you even remembered the name. No chance we can steal you away from your store?"

Max leans against the counter behind her, trying not to look like she's searching for a buzzed head out of the corner of her eye. "I doubt it, but feel free to call my manager and try, if they think they'll lose me maybe they'll bump up my pay."

She doesn't see Jane as they clean and prep for the next day, but when she hurries out of the back room ahead of Noah, coat and bags still in her arms and hope written shamelessly across her face, her pulse jumps when she sees the empty cup sitting on the counter at the pick-up station. Dumping her belongings unceremoniously onto the counter beside it, she snatches up the cup and reads,  _Hi Max, don't be sorry, I understand. I'm glad you're here. Thank you for the drink._

Max barely has time to stuff the cup into her bag before Noah sees it when he comes out of the employee area, but she can't hide her face-splitting grin as she turns around, even as she blushes at his raised eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to transfer here, if you're smiling like that at the end of the night?" he teases.

Max shoulders her bag, unable to stop herself from glancing around as they head towards the door together even though she can hear the night crew talking loudly in the back of the store. "I didn't say no."

\---

Watching Lucas's eyebrows furrow, she wonders irritably why she tells him anything. "So a stranger barely smiled at you and you started collecting garbage?"

"It's not garbage," she says, annoyed, bustling around like she's cleaning for the security cameras. Lucas was waiting to drive her from her extra shift at the kiosk to a party she may or may not have tried to ditch completely to work, and she'd explained her current situation with Jane while Noah was busy with paperwork in anticipation of the other girl possibly coming to order her own coffee this time. He raises his eyebrows at her now, and she huffs, making sure to spray his hands as she squirts sanitizer over the counter. "It's like exchanging letters. It's sweet."

"Does  _she_ know it's sweet?" Lucas says, leaning back over her clean counter on his elbows and smudging the glossy surface. "Apologizing for a minor screw-up isn't the best way to indicate you want to get into someone's pants."

"Doesn't that get you into Dustin's pants after you screw up?" Max teases, wiping the side of the espresso machine.

Lucas smirks at her, wicked. "How do you think I apologize?"

Max smirks back, the grin still on her face when she looks up at a shadow behind Lucas, and her heart hammers in her chest when she meets wide brown eyes. "Hey, Jane," she says a bit breathlessly, and her traitor best friend turns to look over his shoulder at the name, not even pretending to be casual.

Jane's eyes drop uncertainly to Lucas, and he straightens from his slump over the counter. "Oh, I'm not in line," he says with a smile, stepping to the side. He catches Max's eye and winks, and Max begins plotting ways to murder him after her shift as she feels her face burn when she looks away from him resolutely to smile at Jane.

"Americano?" she offers, drowning in those deep brown eyes as her fingers rise to punch in the order automatically. Jane nods silently, eyes dropping to the pinpad machine as she pays, and Max feels so dizzy she sways where she stands when that intense gaze drops her own.

"Great," Max says to give herself time to recover as she slips the receipt into the register. "I'm glad you were able to get it last time, I wasn't sure if Ed would just hand them out without looking. Was the rest of the crew jealous that you got a more expensive drink?" she teases, moving through the motions of making the drink automatically as she basks in Jane's overwhelming presence on the other side of the counter.

"No," Jane says softly. She's leaning against the pick-up counter with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her sweater. When Max looks over to meet her eyes they dart away, staring hard down at the floor like it's the most interesting thing she's ever seen, and Max's stomach sinks a little.

"Yeah, you all drink coffee, right?" Max says quickly. She's almost done the Americano, and she's desperate to get any semblance of conversation out of Jane before she loses her excuse to talk to her. Jane's notes had seemed friendlier than their initial conversation, but, watching Jane stare at the floor out of the corner of her eye she wonders with a sinking feeling if Lucas is right and she's projecting. "Seems like a tight-knit group, my boss never brings us treats just because," she adds.

Jane shrugs. Max sees Lucas watching them when she whips around to grab her marker, and she scowls at him when he raises his eyebrows at her. Defiantly, she pops the cap of the marker off and tosses it at Lucas, smirking at his snicker when it bounces off his shoulder, and she feels Jane's eyes on her when she lifts the finished drink out of the machine.

She writes,  _They're missing out, you found something you liked by taking a chance on something new_ , and reads it over again nervously under the excuse of popping on the lid. She's not sure if it's too flirty or not flirty enough, or even which would be worse, but she can't think of anything more clever and she's not making the drink again just to write Jane a new message, so she turns on her heel and steps towards the pick-up counter, her smile effortless when she finds those beautiful brown eyes watching her ponytail swing behind her.

"Americano for Jane," she says, sliding the cup across the counter. Jane doesn't take the drink until she's pulled her hand away, and she watches those long fingers wrap around the cup with a strange spike of longing. "Don't work too hard," she says, back to being breathless.

Jane's lip twitches, and her eyes seem to sweep over Max's face for a split-second before she nods and turns away abruptly. Max stares after her until Lucas throws a balled-up napkin at the back of her head, and his expression is a bit too understanding as she shuffles back over to him and leans her elbows on the counter.

“Don't say it,” she grumbles, pulling a strand of her hair under her nose like a moustache.

“You'd be banging her now if you'd hit her with that,” he smiles, batting the lock of hair away from her face. She sticks out her tongue at him and waves away his fingers, and he catches her hand to weave their fingers together on the countertop. “Look, we'll find you a hot girl at the party tonight. One who didn't just get out of prison.”

Max's jaw drops. “Lucas!” He blocks her swat with both hands, and she's half-over the counter trying to pinch him when she hears a burst laughter behind her and they both turn to see Noah covering his face with his clipboard, eyes apologetic even as his body shakes with amusement.

“Sorry, but we've got to close up,” he laughs. “ Have tickle fights on your own time, Max.”

“To be continued,” she hisses at Lucas, who holds up his hands with a grin and walks over to one of the cafe tables to wait for her.

She beats Noah out of the employee lounge again, even though she's not hurrying this time. She shuffles over to Lucas, but he raises his eyebrows and jerks his head to the side without looking away from his phone, and her heart jumps into her throat when she looks over and sees an empty cup sitting on the counter. She pounces, all of the hope that had evaporated with the steam from her espresso machine suddenly, painfully, taking up too much space in her chest again, and she reads over the new words on the cup a few times before she fully takes them in.

_I did. Sorry I interrupted you and your boyfriend._

Max's jaw drops for the second time that night. “My _what_?”

\---

Raising his eyebrows, Noah lifts the hinged door on the counter to let her into the kiosk with an amused expression. “If you're wearing that to discourage the overnight guys, they're not going to know what it means.”

Max shrugs, planting her fists on her hips like she's Wonder Woman. “I was just feeling particularly full of pride today,” she says innocently, and Noah laughs.

According to their dress code they are not allowed to wear anything which detracts from their uniform, but representing charities or approved social causes through accessories was not only allowed but encouraged, so Max had dug out every last little piece of free memorabilia she'd ever gotten at a Pride event and tried to find ways of attaching them to her outfit. Lucas and Mike had, unhelpfully, confiscated most of it on her way out the door, but she'd managed to escape with a woven rainbow bracelet on one wrist, a lesbian flag cuff bracelet on the other, and a Pride pin secured to her apron. She'd tried to argue that Jane barely looked at her, so she should have as many easy-to-spot indicators as possible, but for some reason her friends thought that this was an argument _against_ showing off for the other girl like a peacock in spring instead of for it, and she'd been reduced to a few novelties she'd have to show off strategically if she wanted Jane to notice them at all.

She gets quite a few compliments on her accessories throughout her shift, and she's starting to feel hopeful that she won't have to raise her fists like she wants to fight Jane just to get her to notice the bracelets when a cashier from the store offers her a hand-held miniature rainbow flag she'd found in the staff room to complete her look. Max tries tucking it into all of her pockets before she slides it into the elastic holding her ponytail together on a dare from Noah and it stays, erect and impossible to miss, and she keeps it there for the rest of her shift. She's sending Lucas snapchats of her updated look when she hears that soft, husky voice on the other side of the employee area and she bursts out from behind the curtain, flag catching on the heavy material as she looks around frantically to make sure Jane hasn't gotten her coffee yet.

“I'll do it, Noah, sorry I was in the back so long,” she says breathlessly, snatching the cup out of his hand and shoving it under the espresso machine before he can say anything. “You can go sit down if you want.”

Noah stares at her blankly, the hand she'd stolen the cup out of still raised in front of him. “But that's not even the right -”

“You had that paperwork to do, right?” she interrupts, raising her eyebrows. He raises his eyebrows back at her, uncomprehending, and she practically hip-checks him towards the back room. “I got this, it's why I'm here, right?”

Noah doesn't answer, and she doesn't get to see if he has understanding or confusion on his face because she looks up to see Jane staring back at her, wide eyes focused on the flag protruding from her hair. Jane's expression is as inscrutable as always, but her lashes flutter as her gaze falls slowly from the flag to Max's face and down her chest. By the time she's tilting her head to take in the bracelets she's watching Max from beneath her lashes and Max has to take a shaky step forward to stop herself from accidentally pulling the handle on the espresso machine since she seems to have suddenly lost control of her limbs.

The step forward turns out to be a terrible idea, or a very, very good idea, depending on whether you were asking Max's brain or her hormones, because Jane is right on the other side of the counter and she wasn't moving away. “Was there a Pride event today?” Jane asks softly, holding her eyes intensely like she's asking a question which will determine life or death.

Max lets out a shaky breath before answering. “Uh, no, I just wear these. Sometimes.” She finds she can't look away from Jane's serious gaze, as if she would ever want to, and she raises her hand to show off her cuff bracelet, snapping the edge with her opposite hand for emphasis when Jane's eyes dart to it. “A lot,” she adds, and Jane's eyes rise to hers again. “I just found out I can wear them at work. So.”

Jane smiles at her, small and lop-sided and enough to make her knees give out from beneath her. “That's good.”

“Yeah,” Max breathes. She feels Jane watching her watch Jane's lips, and she revels in it instead of shying away. “It's good when everyone knows so there's no... Miscommunication.” She barely knows what she's saying any more, but from Jane's increasingly wicked smile the other girl understands.

Jane opens her mouth to say something, but in a great clatter of noise a group of overnight workers appear at the cash register, calling greetings to the girls. Max blushes brightly and backs away from the counter on instinct, finding a smile for the workers as she shoves her hands into the pocket of her apron and glances back at Jane. Their eyes meet, brown eyes so intense Max's heart speeds up like a hummingbird taking flight, and she forgets what she's doing until one of the men calls, “You got a fresh pot going back there, sweetheart?”

“Sure, for anyone except people who call me sweetheart,” Max says, finally breaking her eye contact with Jane to raise her eyebrows at the group, and the workers all laugh and crowd around the cash to pay for their drinks. Noah comes out at the commotion and she darts to the bar before she can think, ducking down to crawl half-inside the cupboard holding the espresso to avoid looking him in the eye. “I'll do drinks,” she calls.

Jane is listening intently to an older man telling her a story at the pick-up counter when she finally reappears, face glowing, and she vents her annoyance into setting up the espresso machine more aggressively than is quite necessary. She's thought of a thousand things to write to Jane on her next drink, ranging from Sappho's poetry to a graphic proposition, but now that she's holding the cup in her shaking hands the only thing she finds herself writing is _He's not my boyfriend._

“Americano for Jane,” she says, seeking out and meeting her eyes as she places the cup on the counter. Jane's eyes are intense, but they're bright now, a new kind of curiosity behind them as she leans forward to take the drink from Max's shaking fingers. Her hands are cold, fingertips rough with calluses as she slips the cup out from the redhead's unnecessarily-tight grip, and Max's stomach jumps like she's just fallen off her surfboard into the ocean, weightless as her whole body quivers.

“Max, we got enough for three regulars and a decaf?” Noah calls from across the kiosk, and she jolts back to herself all at once.

“Uh.” Her ponytail whips in front of her face as she looks away, blush brighter than her hair. “Yeah, we should be able to do that. Anybody need room for cream?”

Jane is gone once she serves all four coffees. The final announcement stating that the superstore is closed blares from the loudspeakers as she and Noah clean up after the group, Noah chatting cheerfully as Max pretends to listen, and they're finished so early Max glances at the back room with a spike of anxiety, wondering if she can find an excuse to stay even five minutes after Noah. She drags her feet as they walk out from the employee lounge, but her eyes immediately find an empty cup on the counter, and she leaps for it and shoves it into her coat while Noah is distracted by his phone.

She waits until she's sitting in her car to look at the cup, anticipation pounding in her stomach like a second heartbeat, and although it's only one word it's somehow better than a whole, flowery Sappho poem.

_Good._

_\---_

Huffing with the effort, Noah nods towards the curtain behind them as he hoists the bag of beans over the top of the coffee machine. “Hey, welcome back. There's something in the back for you.”

Max frowns, dropping the door in the counter with a _thunk_. “Did I forget something last time?”

“No, I think it was left for you,” Noah says, balancing the bag on his shoulder as he pours the coffee beans into the machine. “I almost threw it out, but it had your name on it so I figured you would decide whether it was trash just in case.”

Max's heart speeds up hopelessly, and she runs through the curtain without another word. On the fold-out chair in the back sits a cup, unused but marked, and she pounces eagerly, fumbling for it as it almost falls to the floor. She frowns momentarily, confused, but her pulse jumps as she recognizes the series of ten numbers and almost slides off the chair when she collapses onto it and tries to dig through her bag at the same time.

She almost calls the phone number, but as the grinder starts up noisily she remembers that her shift has almost started. Before she can think better of it she opens a blank text message and types, _Hi Jane, it's Max, I just got this. Are you working tonight?_

She tucks the phone into the pocket of her apron and rises on shaky legs, grinning much too wide as she asks Noah where she should start. It only takes the amount of time for her to check their inventory of French roast beans before the phone vibrates in her pocket, and she snatches it up with slippery fingers immediately.

_Hi Max. No. My only day off this week._

Max curses under her breath; this was the only shift at this location she has scheduled this week. So far they'd been surprisingly lucky with how their schedules had met up, although it sounded like Jane worked a lot more often than she did. _Damn, that's brutal. You resting up on your one day off?_

The answer comes almost immediately again, and she has to cover her stupid grin with her palm as she swipes the screen with her other hand. _No. Visiting my sister. When are you there again?_

Max sits heavily on the bottom of the cupboard she's searching, legs shaking too hard to hold her, and Noah looks over. “Oh, sorry, Max, but we don't allow phones on the floor. Security cameras, you know. Put it in the back, please.”

Anxiety spikes in her chest. “Oh, seriously? What if I work at the same time? This is important.”

“Is it a family emergency?” Noah asks.

Max hesitates, considering saying yes for a wild moment, but Noah sees the truth on her face. “Then no, sorry. Text them back after work. It'll be just as important then.”

Max rolls her eyes at him, but she rises and walks towards the back, typing as fast as she can. _Sorry, Noah caught me and I can't look at my phone until I'm done my shift_. She hesitates, about to confess that she won't be back for the rest of the week, but she isn't quite ready for the conversation to be over and that feels too final. _Have fun with your sister, I'll text you soon_ , she adds hastily, and shoves the phone into her bag before she can think better of it.

Noah is apologetic as they slowly circle the kiosk checking off inventory, and it takes Max far too long to realize that her irritation is obvious and he thinks it's his fault. She makes an effort to stuff her frustration down and focus on working, and they're joking again as she finishes stocking and he files the paperwork for the day, although she can't help but look out of the corner of her eye every time someone in a reflective vest walks past, even though she knows Jane isn't there.

She dives for her phone as soon as they walk into the employee area, ignoring Noah's knowing smile as she swipes the screen. She has two messages from Jane, and it takes her a moment to get the app open when the screen won't register her sweaty fingertip.

_Okay_ , and then, _We are just watching TV. Nothing too fun. That sucks that you can't text at work._

Max grins foolishly, a little bit charmed that she'd clearly re-thought her first short message and tried to keep the conversation going. Noah is waiting for her, so she swings her bag over one shoulder and texts while she walks, _Watching TV sounds way more fun than how I spent my night. We did inventory, ugh._

The phone buzzes before she can close the app. _Boring. Inventory is most of my job._

_So you know my pain_ , she types back immediately. The mention of Jane's shifts reminds her of her dilemma, and she looks up at Noah as her phone buzzes again. “Hey, Noah, you need me at all this week?”

He shrugs. “No, we've got our regular crew all week. You need some extra hours?”

Max nods, trying to keep the disappointment off of her face. “Yeah, end of the month, you know.”

“I'll text you if anything comes up,” he smiles, and she flashes him a grin back as he pushes the door open and holds it for her.

She and Jane exchange texts back and forth for hours once she gets home, Max curling up in bed and fighting to keep her eyes open as she smiles at every buzz of her phone, and when she wakes far too early in the morning to her alarm, grumpy and disoriented from lack of sleep, she's not sure it wasn't all one of her frequent, hopeless dreams until she rolls over to grab her phone and sees a morning greeting from Jane.

\---

Heart pounding, she rises from the cafe table as soon as she sees Jane walk through the store's sliding doors. The other girl hasn't seen her yet, and she fiddles nervously with her loose hair for a moment, watching her, before rolling her eyes at herself and jogging across the room.

“Hi, Jane,” she says, swinging around to approach her from the front so that the taller girl won't be startled by her sudden appearance.

Jane starts anyway, looking up with wide eyes before her face softens into a small grin. Max is not prepared for the full force of her stunning smile, soft and just for her with no counter or espresso machine to separate them, and she almost bowls into Jane as she forgets how to walk for a split-second right in the other girl's path. “Max,” Jane says in that quiet, throaty voice, and Max realizes with a knee-dissolving jolt that she's never heard Jane say her name before. “I thought you weren't working today.”

“I'm not,” Max says, falling into step with her and shoving her hands in her pockets nervously. She looks down at their feet, partially to get a hold of herself, partially to make sure she's still putting one foot in front of the other. “I came to see you.”

Jane pauses, and then says, “Oh,” and the breathlessness of her voice seems to steal all the air from the room, too.

Squaring her shoulders, Max whirls around and stops in front of Jane, pushing her long hair out of her face as she stares up at Jane with determination. “Look,” she says, and then pauses to tone down the aggression in her voice when Jane eyes her uncertainly, “I like you. I'd really like to go out with you sometime, on a date, or just to hang out if you want to just chill and see where it goes, but seeing you and getting your messages is the best part of my week and I'd like to be around you for more than five minutes making a coffee. If I'm out of line that's okay, this isn't my actual store so I don't have to take shifts here, but I feel like we -”

“Max,” Jane says, mercifully, and Max stops talking, clamping her lips shut as she stares up at Jane anxiously. She's always been a rambler, an excessive one if you ask certain asshole best friends of hers, but Jane's small, stunning smile seems to draw words out of her mouth without letting them pass through her brain first.

But Jane says, “I like you, too,” and her muscles almost collapse at the wave of relief which crashes through her body.

“Oh,” she says, suddenly smiling so wide her face aches with it. “Good.” She blushes at Jane's smirk, rolling her eyes, but her smile only gets impossibly bigger. “I didn't know for sure.”

Jane's eyes soften, and she steps forward, so close Max can see every little shadow her eyelashes cast over her sharp cheekbones, her own vision suddenly hazy. “For sure,” she says softly, and then she's kissing Max.

Max's eyes drift closed, stepping into Jane's lithe body for support as her legs threaten to give out beneath her. Jane's lips are warm, smooth and gentle as they slide over Max's eager ones, and as she pulls back slowly, drawing her bottom lip over Max's as she moves away, Max can't fathom why she had ever doubted this at all.

She stays close even after the kiss, hovering over Max as the redhead tilts her head up with her eyes still closed. “When are you free?” she says, voice barely more than a whisper.

Max sighs, shaking fingers finding her reflective vest to keep her close even though she shows no signs of moving away any time soon. “Um. Now?”

Jane snickers, leaning their foreheads together. “I have to work.”

“Ugh.” Max grimaces, rubbing their noses together drunkenly as she feels Jane's hot breath on her face. “Tomorrow? My class ends at three, we'd have some time before your shift.”

“Okay,” Jane says softly, running a hand over the long red hair framing both of their faces, and Max rolls up onto her toes to kiss her again, hard and greedy, pulling their bodies together by her vest.

Jane pulls back far too soon, although Max is a bit smug when her voice is breathless as she says, “Max. I have to go to work.”

“Okay,” Max says, not listening, and kisses her again.

She grins against Max's lips, and she pulls back only after Max tries to slide her arms around her neck shamelessly. “Max,” she says, running her hands over the shorter girl's arms, her voice amused, if a little bit deeper than normal.

“Okay,” Max sighs. She steps backwards reluctantly, fluttering her eyes open to see Jane staring back at her, and those beautiful, wide eyes draw thoughtless words out of her again, desperate to keep Jane close for just a moment longer. “Hey, we could get someone else to make us coffee for once, and you won't even have to pay this time. Unless you're sick of coffee, but I know you're addicted to your Americano now.”

Jane grimaces, glancing away for a split second, and Max raises her eyebrows. “What?”

Jane scratches the back of her neck, meeting her eyes guiltily. “Americano are too bitter for me,” she confesses. “I like the lightest coffee.”

Max stares at her, uncomprehending. “What? Why didn't you correct me after the first one?”

Jane shrugs, smiling slightly. “You're so pretty,” she says simply.

Max blinks at her, and then bursts out laughing, weak body shaking at the force of it. Jane's eyes widen with worry, but Max can only pull her close again, cupping her tensed jaw and kissing her through her giggles until Jane relaxes against her and kisses her back. They're both laughing when Jane draws back, smiles too wide to continue kissing, but when Max slowly lifts her lashes and their eyes meet those stunning brown eyes are darker with something new, and she doesn't even try to hide the shiver which wracks her body. “Tomorrow,” she says, letting her voice drip with a new promise of her own.

“Tomorrow,” Jane echoes, gazing at her steadily, and she seems to forget her earlier insistence about getting to work on time until Ed's gruff voice calls her name and she turns with a slight blush on her cheeks.

Max watches her go, letting the dreamy heat roll through her body with no doubt or worry now, and she's still standing there when Noah calls her name with confusion on his way out of the store, hands in her hair as she considers with burning lips what revelations tomorrow will bring.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for @yuzuyuri, who patiently listens to my extensive headcanons about what happens in my own stories after they end and wanted a sequel to barista!Max for a *certain scene* I mentioned ashglshjgkfl;fh this is set after they've been dating for about two and a half years, and as far as I can tell there's nothing bad enough to raise the rating but just be warned that it's significantly more,,,, suggestive than the one-shot just with the language and who Max is as a person in this AU so take this as a heads up!!!

On the whole, Max Mayfield is not having a great day.

It's not that anything in particular is going wrong; as days go, the mishaps have been fairly minor, but it's been a compilation of small thing after small thing digging at her until she has to consciously stop her toe from tapping impatiently as she watches the minute hand tick impossibly slowly towards the blessed relief of the coffee shop's closing time. Her bad attitude – because she knows it's entirely her own attitude which is making every second of a job she usually enjoys well enough, as jobs go, so unbearable she's ready to snap the pen she's fiddling with in half when one of the last straggling customers stops to start a whole new conversation just inside the doorway of her shop when they had clearly been headed outside – had begun when she had awoken cold and alone in bed to find her girlfriend had slipped away to work while she was still sleeping, and she hasn't recovered since even though it's almost –  _almost_  – nine at night and she's a grown-up who gets to see her girlfriend every day, sometimes multiple times a day, because they live together and spend enough of their free time at home that she can't, in good conscience, complain about missing Jane.

She internally complains about missing Jane. A lot.

Apparently she externally complains about missing Jane a lot, too, because Lucas and Dustin had given up on answering her whiny texts hours ago and she's been left to her own lonely devices for most of her shift at the coffee shop. Jane isn't a great texter at the best of times, usually saving any stories or thoughts she wants to share with Max until they're curled up on the couch at the end of the day and she can walk her through it in her careful, slow, bizarrely-charming way, and although usually she at least gets a few hearts and happy face emojis throughout the day Jane has been strangely silent all day, to the point where she hasn't opened Max's last three messages. This is fine – Jane gets overwhelmed by the constant contact of cell phones and social media sometimes, and Max knows better than to pester her unless she really needs her for something, which she is aware that being grumpy doesn't qualify for even though the hollow gnawing in her stomach is starting to make it feel like it does – but it adds to her annoyance with the day and makes it that much harder to focus on anything else when all she wants to do is keep checking her phone. Her co-worker had also called in sick, so she has no one except the customers she can't help resenting to distract her from the slow crawl of time and her disproportionate loneliness, and every order change and phone call and toe stub and minor inconvenience that she wouldn't register on another day has built and built inside of her until she has to resist the urge to open the camera on her phone to make sure she doesn't look like her head is on fire from the steam coming out of her ears beneath her red hair.

She's poking at the stacks of cups she knows she doesn't need to refill half-heartedly, leaning one arm on her pristine counter to support her cheek in a way which is definitely not up to food safety and sanitary protocols, when the bell above the door rings and she glances up to see the last two customers finally, _finally_  walk out the door. She shoots upright immediately and jogs around the counter, heart lifting for the first time that day as she digs around in her apron pocket for her keys; technically it's still three minutes to close, but there's no one left in the store to serve and she doesn't want new customers wandering in to spend ten minutes deciding what they want when she's already shut down most of the machines anyway. Carefully avoiding eye contact with people slowing their steps on the street outside the shop, she locks the front door and pulls the metal grid down over the windows so emphatically her thick ponytail almost swings around to smack her in the face. She yanks the elastic out of her hair and shakes out her tresses as she hurries around the restaurant, moving chairs and collecting garbage in record time, and she's feverishly thanking whatever gods are listening that she was hired by a location with fake security cameras as she hangs up her apron and rushes out the back door barely five minutes after nine.

Just because the day is not yet as finished with her as she is with it, she drops her keys in a puddle in the back alley she's parked in, and then steps in a different puddle with her expensive orthotic work shoe when she bends down to pick them up. A group of drunk college boys cat-call her when she's stooped over fishing for her keys, and a part of her is a little bit grateful for the excuse to vent just a fraction of her frustration with the day when she tells them where they can stick their comments perhaps more colorfully than she should while still wearing her work uniform. The hand gesture she accompanies her helpful suggestion with makes her drop her keys back into the puddle, though, and she's seething more than she had been before by the time she finally gets to her car and throws herself inside, long hair shielding her from their drunken laughter.

She plugs in her phone as soon as the car purrs to life beneath her, and even though she tries to ignore the lack of notifications as she scrolls through her music playlist, she can't help but feel her stomach sink again. She rolls her eyes at herself, and on a whim selects one of Jane's playlists, an eclectic mix of heavy metal, retro pop and experimental jazz that she only keeps on her phone because she's  _that_  great of a girlfriend, but the surge of her heartbeat has more to do with the memory of Jane dancing in the passenger seat next to her than the music as the chaotic mix of guitars blares from her speakers when she throws the car into reverse.

Usually Max loves driving, her second favorite de-stressing activity, but even the powerful vibration of the engine beneath her doesn't help her mounting frustration when she merges onto the highway to find a traffic jam as far as she can see. Her loud, theatrical groan is drowned out by the thrashing heavy metal music blaring from her speakers, and she collapses back onto her seat, every second she inches along behind the endless stream of taillights somehow feeling even longer than watching the seconds tick by at the coffee shop.

She's so wound up at the thought of seeing Jane by the time she bursts through the door of their apartment, it takes her a few heart-pounding moments to realize her girlfriend isn't there. She slows her steps, gaze flickering from the dark bedroom to the empty couch, but her girlfriend isn't there and she feels her tensed stomach sink as she pads down the hallway to find the washroom as devoid of Jane as the rest of the flat. "Babe?" she calls hopefully, swinging around on her heel to take in the rest of the living room as if Jane is going to pop out from beneath the coffee table at the sound of her voice, but silence is her only answer, and the hollow anxiousness that's been eating away at the base of her stomach all day spreads through her belly again painfully as she slows to a stop in the middle of the room.

She frowns and bites the inside of her cheek, trying to fight down the disproportionate disappointment squeezing her stomach. She tries to remember if Jane had mentioned any reason she wouldn't be home; hey hadn't had defined plans for the evening, technically, but for the almost two years they had been living together, they have always come home to each other unless they had other obligations. Working shift work, especially when Jane had worked overnight and they had been on opposite schedules, had made them very protective of the rare time they were able to be alone together, and Max had assumed that after missing Jane all day she would at least be able to come home to her. She's just trying to remind herself that Jane has no way of knowing she would be needing a hug when she got home from work, especially if she hadn't been answering her phone all day because she'd already had plans, when a familiar shape catches her eye on the table and she turns to look at it with surprise.

Shamefully, although as Lucas loved to point out apparently not shamefully enough since she'd still done it, she had washed and kept the disposable cups she and Jane had exchanged notes on before they had started dating. It was foolish, especially the first night when she'd dragged Jane back to her bedroom unplanned and she hadn't remembered to hide the cups from their proud display on her bookshelf until Jane had seen them, but Max has a helplessly foolish side when it comes to loving Jane and she hasn't been able to bear throwing the cups out even after all these years. The cups live on a shelf Jane had made her above their bed, so Max is surprised to see one sitting on the kitchen table, lidless and pristine except for Jane's familiar careful scrawl across the side. Heart fluttering like it always does when she catches sight of their unorthodox notes, she pads over to the table to pick up up and return it to its rightful place, when unfamiliar words catch her eye and she pauses to scan the untidy writing.

_Hi Max, meet me in the garden. Love, Jane._

Max raises her eyebrows, eyes darting over the words a second time as the tension in her stomach squeezes and then releases into thousands of butterflies. She turns the cup over, but Jane's note is the only writing on the container; she must have saved a new cup from the last time she'd visited Max at work to write her invitation. Grinning much wider than she would have believed she could only a minute ago, Max reads the words over once more greedily before she drops the cup back onto the table and bolts for the door without a second thought.

The garden is on the roof of their apartment building. Jane had immediately fallen in love with the tiny oasis of shrubs and planters filled with flowers when they had been viewing potential apartments, and once she had left her overnight job to pursue her love of caring for and cultivating plants as a florist, she had taken to sneaking up to the roof to work maintain the little garden in her free time. Max is fairly certain that the landlord pays someone to come and work in the garden, but everything blooms under Jane's attentive hands, as Max knows better than anyone, so she always avoids pointing this out and just listens with a smile to her lover when she gives her updates on how her plants have been thriving and what she's planning for them next. She doesn't visit it with Jane too often, mostly because they've been caught making out on the roof by their neighbors more times than they haven't, but Jane loves being in the garden and Max loves being with Jane so it doesn't surprise her that Jane wants to meet her there on a warm summer night they have to themselves. Heart pounding deafeningly more from anticipation than the long jog up the staircase, Max bursts through the door to see their little fold-up poker table silhouetted against the glowing sunset near the edge of the roof, a single rose standing tall in a vase amoungst other shadowy objects on the table Max can't quite make out. She hears her name and turns, and then the sunset and the table and the world fade away and all she sees is Jane, smiling that stunning, lopsided smile at her as she rises from her perch on the lip of the flat roof. Max is running before she can think better of it, and she muffles both her own giddy laugh and the beginning of Jane's grunt of surprise with a greedy kiss when she throws herself into Jane's arms at long, long last.

She doesn't realize Jane has been slowly backing her away from the edge of the roof until she breaks their kiss dizzily to breathe. “Hi,” she whispers, and the warm, slightly-dazed smile in Jane's brown eyes makes her lock her elbows behind her girlfriend's neck and kiss her deeply again before she's fully caught her breath.

Jane pulls her body flush against her own with one strong arm around the dip of her lower back, the other hand rising to cradle Max's face to gently part their lips after a long, decadent moment. “Hi,” she says with a reverent stroke of Max's overheated cheek, breathless. “You got my note.”

“Yeah,” Max grins, drinking her in with eager eyes as she tries to catch her breath. Her whole body is burning more furiously than the fiery sunset behind them at Jane's touch, and she wonders half-seriously if it would be disrespectful to Jane's obvious careful planning if she dragged her girlfriend down to their bed before she even saw what Jane had set up for them. “What's the special occasion?”

Jane blushes pink and looks down bashfully, and Max has a moment of panic that she's forgotten an anniversary before Jane says quietly, “You're special.”

A little laugh bubbles out of Max's too-big grin, and she drops one hand down to grip the buttons of Jane's blouse in one sweaty fist and pull her in for another heady kiss. They're both smiling too widely for a proper kiss, but Jane's soft lips sliding over hers still manages to make her toes curl in her orthotic work shoes. “Hmmm, well, I may feel special, but I sure don't look like it. I may be a bit under-dressed for a surprise date idea. Or you're a bit over-dressed.” She tugs at the blouse and leans their foreheads together, waggling her eyebrows.

Jane has gotten better over the years at picking up on her stupid dirty jokes, but she keeps smiling at Max with soft, dazed eyes now. “You look beautiful.”

“It's the sexy uniform,” Max says in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and feels Jane's silent laugh vibrate through her body as she tugs her close again for a hot, needy kiss.

She sinks into the kiss like a warm bath, muscles she hadn't even known were tensed relaxing as she melts into Jane's embrace. Even after years of kissing Jane, or maybe because of it, her lover's lips chase away every bit of stress and irritation and loneliness in her body until she's left with only Jane's heady, overwhelming warmth. This is what she's been craving all day, the ease with which Jane makes her head spin and her heart pound and the harsher details of the world blur a bit at the edges, and she's so eager to lose herself in it that she forgets that they are on a public roof for a surprise Jane has thoughtfully planned for her until Jane reaches back to weave their fingers together and gently slides her hands out from where they have sneaked beneath her blouse. "Come here," she murmurs against Max's lips, and she keeps their fingers linked together as she wraps her arm around Max's body to lead her towards the folding table.

Max burrows into her body greedily, following her lead mostly because her knees are too watery for her to stand on her own. "Mmm, babe, I missed you today."

"Me too," Jane says quietly, nuzzling the thick waves at Max's temple.

"I can see that," Max grins, tucking herself into Jane's side as they approach the table. There's a graceful bottle of champagne tucked behind the flower vase, but it's the single, familiar cup sitting on the edge of the table closest to them which makes Max laugh. "You really committed to this bit, huh?" she teases, squeezing Jane's fingers before slipping hers away to reach for the cup. "I love it, but I'm warning you that I'm still keeping all of them, so if you made a treasure hunt-type date you're going to have to build me a bigger sh -"

Her words fade away, along with everything around her, because she's just read the careful, scrawling words on the cup and they're too impossible to exist in the real world.

_Max, will you marry me?_

She stares blankly, wild heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she has to blink a few times before she can make herself reread the words. They're still the same, even when she reads them again and again and over again, black marker clear and stark against the white plastic even though the words can't possibly be what her bewildered eyes are taking in. She turns to Jane for help, but Jane had slipped away with the rest of the world and was now sinking to one knee, beautiful eyes as wide as Max's feel as she pulls a tiny velvet-covered box from the pocket of her trousers.

"Max," Jane says quietly, and for some reason this is what makes tears spring, ridiculously, into Max's eyes. "I love you. You're smart, and kind, and funny, and my best friend, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel as special as you are. Will you be my wife?"

Max covers her burning face with her hands automatically, head spinning dizzily behind her palms. When she lowers her shaking hands Jane is still there, on one knee, perfect and impossible and earnest as she ignores the breath-taking sunset behind her in favor of gazing patiently at Max, and the world stops spinning so suddenly she almost stumbles at the abrupt standstill. She stands firm, though, because Jane is real and solid and part of what of her burning senses tell her is the very real, solid world where Max is standing in front of the woman she loves, fighting for the breath to tell her that she would be her wife.

She feels that rush of warmth spread over her very real, quivering body, and her mouth opens with a wider smile than she's certain her lips are capable of, but her enthusiastic  _yes_ get stolen from her constricted throat like her breath had and she can only make an embarrassing, wet noise like she's being strangled. She laughs, weak and dizzy and far too giddy to care that she's ruining the moment she's spent far more time picturing than she'll ever admit to anyone, and gives up completely and flings herself at Jane wordlessly. Jane catches her with a little  _oof_  and falls back onto her bum, and Max burrows into her body shamelessly, covering her face with kisses as she struggles to prop them both upright. Jane laughs too, breathlessly, and she starts her question over and over with every kiss as she runs her hands over the frizzing red hair framing both of their faces.

"Yes," Max mumbles into her skin. Once she finds the word she repeats it over and over, following it every time with a kiss to Jane's angular cheekbone or little upturned nose or fluttering eyelids. Each time she agrees to be Jane's wife her stomach bursts anew with more wild butterflies, and by the time Jane releases a shaky breath and yanks her lips down to meet her own with a firm hand on either side of her face, she's all butterflies and her whole being flutters and soars in Jane's embrace.

Her knees slide on either side of Jane's hips, and she grips the material of Jane's blouse with both hands as their stomachs slide together slowly. She makes that stupid strangled noise again and kisses Jane harder, tongue teasing Jane's shaking lower lip with a sweep as slow as the rock of her hips, and Jane's hands drop to her back and crushes their bodies together, catching her lips possessively to take control of the kiss. Max gives in immediately and melts into her again, desperate to get even closer to her fiancee even though their bodies are already lined up intimately, and even though she's panting for breath as hard as Jane is when the other woman pulls away to breathe, gloriously long and heated moments later, she groans in protest and presses wet, gasping kisses down Jane's neck.

Jane follows her spine with one hand, and she's distracted when the other lifts from her back and Jane shifts her weight in her arms. She blinks open bleary eyes and looks down to see Jane's free hand holding out the little box, a glittering diamond, as round and bright as the moon, nestled in the dark velvet. "I didn't know what ring size you are," Jane whispers, almost apologetically. "The saleswoman said we could get it resized."

"Oh," Max breathes. She'd forgotten completely about the ring in her excitement, and she blushes with her whole body now as she wipes both of their tears from her cheek and reaches for it. It's beautiful, simple enough that she won't have to take it off at work like she's seen other woman do and eye-catching enough that no one could miss the glittering diamond or what it means, and Max feels as if the only thing keeping her from floating weightless off of the roof is Jane's solid hold on her. "Jane, it's perfect," she says, voice wobbling dangerously as she lets her fiancee -  _fiancee_  - ease the ring out of the box and over her finger. They giggle together as it slides down the digit with a significant gap between her skin and the metal, but Jane's hand beneath hers as they admire the jewelry reminds her of something and she looks up abruptly. "Where's yours?"

Jane's eyebrows pinch with confusion. "Mine?"

"Yeah. You're engaged, too. You should have a ring." Max tilts her hand, watching the bright diamond slide over her finger with even brighter eyes. "I want everyone to be able to see you're going to be my  _wife_."

Jane grins against the top of her head, and Max can feel her silent laughter shake both of their bodies. "I didn't buy myself a ring."

Max grins, feeling her own laughter vibrate through her weak body. It's not that funny, but everything is impossibly, overwhelmingly good in this moment and she doesn't know what else to do with herself. "A foolish oversight," she jokes, and curls her fingers so that her ring wouldn't fall off when Jane snickers and weaves their fingers together. "But easily fixable. We'll get you a ring when we go get mine resized. Much more romantic. And less shady."

Jane laughs and tilts her face upwards for a soft kiss. Max presses forward eagerly, and they're both panting again when Jane draws back just enough to whisper hoarsely, "Max, I - I love you, and I got the strawberry champagne you like, but -"

"I know," Max pants. She pulls Jane back to her with both hands on her collar, kissing her with bruising force, and Jane gasps and rolls their upper bodies together in the way that always makes Max's vision go white. Jane sucks her bottom lip possessively and meets Max's tongue with her own when she finally parts her lips, and Max feels her eyes roll back into her head beneath her fluttering lashes as she drowns willingly in Jane's warmth.

Jane pulls away when Max starts dragging her backwards with the hands still clutching her collar. "Do you -"

"Jane, you're perfect but I swear to god if you don't take me home right now I'm going to rip this off on this very public rooftop," Max growls against her mouth with a tug on her shirt, and Jane's laugh is a bit shaky as she finally returns her insistent kiss with full force and tightens those strong arms around her back, leading both of them to their feet. They kiss clumsily, trying to walk without moving an inch away from each other, and Max laughs so hard she can't catch her breath when they back into the folding table. She tightens her grip on Jane to keep her close as she laughs, tossing her head back as every indescribable, overwhelming, warm emotion bursts out of her with her laughter, and she feels Jane join her in her hysterics as she obligingly continues kissing down her exposed neck. Max runs her palms over Jane's back, and it's the feeling of the ring on her finger, new but already such an integral part of her she knows she won't take it off tonight even as it slips dangerously close to the first knuckle on her finger, that makes her turn in Jane's arms and begin pulling her towards the exit. Jane follows willingly, wrapping her body around Max's back and continuing her kisses over the redhead's neck as they stumble and giggle towards the door, and as Max shuffles past the table, sucking on her own bottom lip both to muffle her laughter and taste Jane on her skin, she pauses for a split-second to snatch the disposable cup with one hand and grips Jane's hand with the other, breaking into a run as she pulls her fiancee towards the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do people buy engagement rings without the person there to try them on??? This is so stressfull??? Also in case anyone reads Constellations I just want to make a statement that I have no idea why I think roofs are such a romantic location, they just always end up there, I even tried re-writing this and it's the only way I could make it work ashlgshgj;lf thanks again yuzu for giving me an excuse to write these two again and for just generally being your wonderful self!!!<3

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if it will show up since they don't have an account but this is for yuzuyuri, who wanted Max thirsting over El with a buzz cut skskljashfsknk  
> Tag yourself, are you the useless lesbian who won't correct a pretty barista who gives you a drink you hate or the useless lesbian who all but wraps yourself in a Pride flag as a cape to let a girl know you don't have a boyfriend??? This is so dumb omg  
> Just a heads up, I know this isn't a blog but shit has been going down in my life and I'm not sure when I'll be able to answer comments or update Constellations, but as soon as everything stops sucking I'll be back!!! Hopefully soon!!! Comments make me as happy as used coffee cups make Max!!!


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